


Catwalk

by beloniika



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6643264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beloniika/pseuds/beloniika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Seoul Fashion Week, and some students from the Mugunghwa Fashion School have the chance to be an additional help backstage for a number of designers of varying degrees of fame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catwalk

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has been gathering dust in my docs for so long (since my bandom days), I'm sick of seeing it around. The rated half is still in the works, but I wanted to finally publish ~~a part of~~ it -- dunno yet if I'll edit the second part in or post them separately.

It’s Seoul Fashion Week, and some students from the Mugunghwa Fashion School have the chance to be an additional help backstage for a number of designers of varying degrees of fame.

Kyungsoo is leisurely making his way to the building where the event is taking place. Some of his schoolmates are already there, scanning him more or less surreptitiously from head to toe as he walks closer; he approaches and quietly greets everybody he knows, untouched by the unspoken criticisms or raised eyebrows addressed to his simple attire, too used to them. Well, yeah, he might not be as flamboyant or as stylish as the others, maybe objectively plain, but he still thinks he looks good; besides, it was warmly suggested to wear something comfortable, since they’d to be standing for hours, so those stuck ups in high heels and clingy fabrics can go to hell, with Kyungsoo’s homages.

They don’t have to wait long for a smiling guy with a folder in his hands to appear on the threshold and call for the Mugunghwa Fashion School, inviting Kyungsoo and his schoolmates inside, past the people waiting to be admitted to the runways.

Backstage is a maze, Kyungsoo is already lost after the first three turns, but the group finally reaches the dressing room of the first fashion designer they’ll assist; there is a flurry of busy supervisors running around in their stilettos and hairdressers snatching models from each other. Kyungsoo is a bit overwhelmed, he didn’t expect it to be so hysteric.

“Okay guys,” the coordinator, Jongdae, addresses the Mugunghwa students, “Thanks for coming, your help is much appreciated.

“As you can see, there’re racks with a couple of outfits for each of the models to wear. The models are all pros, they know the rhythm is frenetic and they’re already fast at getting dressed, so you just have to make sure nothing goes missing or is worn in the wrong way. Don’t be scared, there’re photos of the outfits taped to the racks,” Jongdae explains, “Ask for help to the tailors and the fashion consultants for clarifications and such, if necessary. They don’t bite. Much,” he adds, making some students giggle a bit.

Jongdae leads the group past the hairdressers and make-up artists, stopping in front of where the madness will take place soon.

“Here we go: I’m going to call the roll and assign you a model. Oh, by the way, have any of you already done this before?” he asks, scanning the group and noting how less than half of the group raised their hand, “Good, good. Okay, let’s start with Byun Baekhyun…”

A boy in an _inconspicuous_ silver jacket and heavy make-up takes a step forward, grin plastered on his small face.

Jongdae nods at him, “You’re going to dress Chanyeol,” he states, pointing to the closest rack.

In the following minutes, roughly twenty people get called and assigned to their model. All but Kyungsoo.

“Are you all set- Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Jongdae exclaims, noticing poor Kyungsoo standing all alone in front of him, “You must be…Do Kyungsoo?”

”Yes,” the boy replies with a forced, small smile.

“Sorry, sorry, with all these names I skipped yours…” Jongdae apologizes, checking his list once again as they make their way to the rack closest to the catwalk. When he glances back at Kyungsoo, though, actually looking at him up and down and focusing on his legs, Jongdae smirks.

“Your model is Kai. Good luck with him, and have fun~” he states, wiggling his eyebrows before leaving. Kyungsoo stands there, looking puzzled at Jongdae’s retreating back, but he eventually starts preparing the outfits, loosening the many loops of the biker boots, glancing warily at some more avant garde pieces displayed in front of him. He feels like weeping at the sight of a pair of patchwork leather pants so tight, it’d probably be easier for him to rip them at the seams and sew them directly on the model.

(A quick glimpse at the polaroids relieves him--the trousers are the same for the THREE, not two, outfits Kai has to wear and that Jongdae forgot to mention Kyungsoo had to juggle virtually alone, damn it.)

He can faintly hear the shuffling steps of someone approaching, then plopping on the chair by the rack. Turning, he unabashedly rakes his eyes along the figure next to him: a toned, skinny-jean clad leg is crossed over the other, white iPod on his lap, shoes rattier than what one would expect from a model; a slender torso is wrapped in a tight, white V-neck t-shirt, that enhances the healthy looking skin and shows freshly applied temporary tattoos on his arms; the hair is combed in a wilder rendition of the James Dean ‘do and a dramatic make-up has already been brushed on.

Kyungsoo can’t help but stare at the model, who still hasn’t spared him a glance, with a mix of nervousness, irritation at the aloof behavior (not like he’s one to talk), and “shit, he’s hot”.

(Little does he know, the model had a similar train of thoughts as he walked up to his assigned rack: tiredness, bummer at the unflattering cardigan worn by the person assigned to him, and an appreciative assessment of his legs.)

“Hi, I’m Kyungsoo and…I’m going to…uh, dress you?” he eventually greets, his eyebrows raising a bit in uncertainty at how the other guy would react.

The model doesn’t seem to be listening to him, nor shows he heard in the first place because of the music flooding his ears; he hasn’t raised his head once, always focused on the screen of his iPod. Kyungsoo is a bit taken aback by the total indifference, and with a snort he finishes unpacking the few accessories needed for his model’s outfits.

Jongdae reappears, suggesting the helpers to start dressing their models.

“You don’t have to hurry!” he shouts amused when he spots Joonmyeon hurriedly climbing on a chair to make his giant model wear an entangle of ropes, that should be a tank top but nobody is sure of its real purpose.

“...Yet. Also, always start from the bottom, remember that,” Jongdae addresses the eager guy as a second thought, before doing a tour from model to model to check for potential problems, missing items, hysterical crisis.

When he spots Kyungsoo holding a pair of trousers and trying to gather the courage to talk Kai into collaborating, Jongdae sighs heavily; he quickly walks to their corner and flicks one of the earphones off the tan model’s ear.

“What the--”

“It’s almost show time, get ready…and stop being an ass,” orders Jongdae, biting back a manic grin. He winks at Kyungsoo -again- before heading to the entrance of the catwalk, fiddling with his earpiece.

Kai swears under his breath and finally turns to the wide eyed male in front of him.

“Sorry, I’m... I'm Kai,” he finally introduces himself, looking at Kyungsoo with tired dark eyes.

“Kyungsoo…” the other replies warily.

Kai nods and stands up, toeing his shoes off and shamelessly stripping off the thin tee and the jeans, showing he has another fake tattoo on his right side, standing barefoot in only his Armani black boxer. Kyungsoo blinks and has to forcefully tear his eyes away, lending the model the skin tight trousers he has to wear and hesitating before helping him force them on.

(He may or may not have heard Jongdae coughing a “Needs lube,” as the coordinator passes by again.)

The full outfit consists also of a flimsy, distressed hooded cardigan with pushed up sleeves, vintage looking biker boots, and a few long necklaces that Kyungsoo manages to make the model wear before frantic hairdressers and make-up artists snatch away Kai, who’s going to open the show, to do the last retouches.

The models get in line as soon as some dubstep song starts throbbing through everyone’s bones, lights from the catwalk flashing from behind the white panel that separates the frenetic backstage from the awaiting audience.

Kyungsoo turns to his rack, picking up the clothes that Kai threw carelessly on the floor while changing, when he spots the sculpted sunglasses he forgot to give to his model: there’s no time to freeze like a deer in the headlights, the bass is going to drop and the fashion show will start. Kyungsoo hurriedly runs to give the specs to the model, bumping into people and risking to make everything fall over like a giant domino. Kai quirks his lips slightly in acknowledgment at the puffing guy and wears the glasses coolly, stepping onto the catwalk and taking the scene as the background music reaches its climax.

Students, tailors, hairdressers, everyone gathers in front of a little TV that displays the comings and goings of the models on the runway. Kyungsoo’s eyes are glued to the monitor, watching how Kai owns the catwalk, walking both elegantly and confidently, effortlessly. The model looks mysterious, hidden behind the sunglasses and the hoodie; he soon reaches the end of the catwalk and gingerly takes the hood off without mussing his hair up too much, stopping and posing those couple of seconds to allow the photographers to snatch some more pics of his outfit, overwhelming him with countless popping flashbulbs that make him glow in an artificial aura.

The first display is over in almost the blink of an eye. Kai is already undressing as soon as he has stepped backstage and makes his way hurriedly to his rack, necklaces tangling together and dangerously nearing their breaking point; Kyungsoo fights the urge to smack Kai’s hands away, gently but firmly prying the necklaces out of the model’s grip and over his head instead. A wayward supervisor helps Kai shrugging on an armor-like jacket, rigorously shirtless, while Kyungsoo drops on his knees to quickly ease him into the harness he has to wear around his hips, getting a bit too close and personal with the model’s junk.

(Both ignore how Kai gulps at the vicinity, or the shiver that ran through the his body when Kyungsoo absentmindedly touched his ribs to fix the temporary tattoo, that was already starting to peel off due to the chafing of the armor.)

The models come and go, and soon enough it’s the end of this fashion show. Kai is back for his last outfit change, that makes him look like a cyber punk groom who had some fun in a BDSM dungeon (ah, fashion…): a headpiece made of cables and assorted garbage; some black leather harness splayed on his chest, held together by thin straps and studs; _the leather pants of hell_ ; vinyl half-gloves; a bulky shoulder armor on top of a long burgundy coat that matches the accents of the dress worn by the bride-model, whom he was holding hands with. All the models walk one last time, clapping for the fashion designer who steps on the runway between the groom and the bride.

Everybody is welcomed backstage by another round of applause and a “you worked hard” addressed at large. The models change back into more comfortable attires before taking a break or rushing to their next show, while the collaborators and students alike start gathering clothes and accessories, wrapping or boxing them neatly.

Kai emerges from the toilet with a towel over his shoulders, a shadow of his dark make-up still on his face and the button of his pants popped off.

“Kyungsoo…” he calls, addressing his assigned fashion student, “I think I need some help.”

Kyungsoo looks up from the coat he’s carefully zipping up in a garment bag and chokes on his spit, not knowing where to look (or rather, _knowing where to look_ , but not wanting to act on it).

“Okay, let’s make it quick, I have another show to go to,” Kyungsoo grumbles, walking briskly past Kai to head to the toilet, keeping his head low to hide the blush spreading on his cheeks at the realization of the way what he just said could be interpreted.

(He doesn’t notice Kai biting his lip to fight a blush of his own.)

They lock themselves in the stall where Kai put his belongings. Kyungsoo goes on his knees (oh, dejà vu) and focuses on the task at hand, not wanting to see whatever is passing through Kai’s eyes. All goes well with the zipper, albeit a bit strained: the real hardship comes with making the stubborn leather go past the swell of the model’s ass and tonic thighs.

A particularly violent pull lurches Kai forward, making his groin come in contact with Kyungsoo’s nose. They scramble apart, red in the face, looking everywhere but at each other.

“Oh, fuck it,” utters Kyungsoo, tugging Kai back in place. The model expects the struggle with the pants to continue; what he doesn’t expect are the words that the older guy says next, with heat and determination in his big eyes.

(He can’t say he didn’t hope for this turn of events, though.)

“Can I blow you?”

Caught off guard, Kai can only nod to show his consent, never averting his eyes from the figure kneeling in front of him, currently busy pulling the model’s boxers down as far as they can go and extracting his soft erection with deft hands. Kai’s breath hitches at the first stroke; he has to conceal a gasp when Kyungsoo cocks his head to look up and slowly starts to smirk, a hand wrapped at the base of the model’s dick.

Kyungsoo glances down at his handiwork and at Kai’s engorging member, feeling it in his fist. He licks his lips, and before he knows it he’s leaning forward.

Kai groans loudly at the first wet touch of a tongue on his tip and the warmth engulfing it. Kyungsoo’s head bobs up and down the model’s cock, stroking what he doesn’t manage to take in his mouth as he slowly adjusts his throat. He focuses his tongue on the thickest vein and under the head, basking in Kai’s guttural keens of pleasure and leaning in the model’s fingers as they thread through his hair, massaging his scalp gently.

They both wish they could drag this for longer, but time is tight and someone will surely come looking for them. A bit reluctantly, Kyungsoo speeds up his pace, and so does Kai, rocking his hips faster to chase his orgasm. At long last, Kyungsoo manages to bury his nose in Kai’s pubes, effectively deepthroating him, and the model finally comes without much warning, but lots of apologies afterwards.

Kyungsoo hacks lightly before resuming his battle against the leather pants and, just like that, they peel off. Fucking finally.

They silently busy themselves, Kai wearing his much more comfortable jeans and Kyungsoo inspecting the designer pants before folding them and leaving the stall.

“Wait, please!” exclaims Kai as he shoves his towel in his paper bag. Kyungsoo halts in front of the toilet door, a hand already on the handle.

“Are you free tonight? Wanna grab a drink?” Kai asks, timidly stroking his nape out of nervousness.

Kyungsoo got whiplash: rude asshole first, prince of the catwalk then, and now bashful young man. Who the hell is this guy?

“Only if--”

“Jongin.”

“Are you even--”

“Yeah, I’m 22.”

Kyungsoo glares playfully at Kai for anticipating his questions. Without saying a word, he hands Jongin his own phone and motions him to type his number. They exchange shy smiles and goodbyes before leaving the toilet and heading to different directions, looking back at each other until Jongin leaves the room for good.

Kyungsoo walks up to his rack to find it completely empty, as is most of the backstage. Worry makes his stomach churn: is he going to get an earful for not finishing the simple task he was asked to do? And where did his fellow students go? Did they leave without him? Damn, he wasn’t gone for long…

He’s retrieving an empty bag to put the darned leather pants in when he’s startled by a firm grasp and insistent pulling, seeing no other choice but to follow whoever needs him so urgently. It’s just Jongdae, who’s taking him through a shortcut to rejoin the group, already preparing for the next fashion show.

“Don’t worry, I finished packing Kai’s clothes for you,” he reassures, “Speaking of which, I think you should give me those pants, I’ll have to bring them to the dry cleaner…”

“I-I was careful!” Kyungsoo cries out, cringing (and mentally hitting himself) for falling for it hook, line and sinker. _‘I checked, they’re spotless,’_ he adds in a tiny voice that Jongdae hears regardless, if the broadening smirk is any indication.

“It’s a pretty standard procedure, nothing to worry about. I couldn’t miss the chance to tease you, now, could I?” the coordinator explains, dropping a companionable arm on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, “Loverboy isn’t around for the next couple of shows so you should be able to focus for a while. Let the prospect of tonight’s date be your fuel! Fighting!” he says, cheering the student on before leaving to check on the other collaborators.

“Thank you...wait, how do you know about our date?!” Kyungsoo calls for Jongdae, but the bustling backstage is too noisy (or the older man pretends not to hear just to keep him on his toes).

**Author's Note:**

> it’s not the first time that i write something that eventually sort-of happens, i’m starting to wonder if i’m a clairvoyant or something: it has been a long time since i resumed and arranged this old prompt of mine, and Jongdae really ended working backstage of a fashion show for the MV of his [SM Station song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Npxqg9p1Q94&feature=youtu.be)… *eyes emoji* ~~...jk~~


End file.
